


Either Way, I'm Here

by addyrobin



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Crying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5989504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addyrobin/pseuds/addyrobin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Iron Bull seems to prefer that no one sees who he is beneath his mask. He is a big, hulking beast of a Qunari who thrives on murder and sex, who can and will drink anyone under the table, a creature made of nothing but indulgences - yes, that's what he wants people to think. But Dorian knows better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Either Way, I'm Here

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a request for an anon who wanted some hurt/comfort - which I've actually never written before, so I hope it's okay! I wanted to get this up before I'm gone for the weekend, so I didn't have the chance to proofread, my apologies. Also I've posted like, three fics in two days and I feel like I'm really spamming up the tag, I'm sorry ;n; I'll try and space it out more, promise! Title is from the song Breaking Away by Owen.

Life isn't always easy on the Iron Bull, and Dorian can tell.

He never mentions it, that he can see the way the Bull's hands will sometimes shake as he gesticulates while telling a story. That he's noticed, when Bull doesn't want to talk about something, the way he'll purse his lips for a split second. That he knows how often Bull is lying when he says 'it's fine'.

Even a warrior has his tells, and Dorian has come to know them all more intimately than he'd like.

The Iron Bull seems to prefer that no one take notice, prefers keeping his mask on. He is a big, hulking beast of a Qunari who thrives on murder and sex, who can and will drink anyone under the table, a creature made of nothing but indulgences - yes, that's what he _wants_ people to think. That's what people _do_ think. He's heard the chatter, he heard it at Haven and still he hears it at Skyhold, a maid's tale of how the Iron Bull ravaged her against a wall, a soldier recalling the way the Bull swept him off his feet once (but he and Bull are exclusive, he's found, and the tales seem to be nothing but memories. He can't blame them, the Iron Bull _is_ good at what he does.)

Sometimes even Dorian is fooled, even now. Sometimes he, too, believes that the Iron Bull is content, that he wants for nothing as long as he's killed enough and eaten enough on any given day…but he knows better. There's a man underneath that façade, someone who is just as confused and wary of the world as Dorian is. An intelligent, tender, beautiful man who is so much more than people give him credit for.

The Iron Bull is still a man who hurts, even if he won't let anyone know it.

Maybe that's why he's so quick to lie when Dorian walks in on him with his head in his hands, crying silently and shivering as he sits on the bed. It's training, but maybe it's also pride. Perhaps the Iron Bull has convinced himself of his own lie…not that it matters. Dorian is not fooled.

"It's nothing, I was just--" The Bull starts, frowning when Dorian hushes him.

"Shhh, amatus." Bull looks up at him, eye still reddened from crying, and Dorian wonders just how long he's been like this. "No need to talk. Can you stand up for me? I'd like to make the bed so we can lie in it properly."

The Bull stares at him but doesn't object, following his orders wordlessly and standing from the bed. Dorian looks him over, eyes the half-moons on his arms where he has clearly dug his nails in a bit too hard. He sighs softly, turning away to rearrange the sheets on their bed (and it is _theirs_ , Dorian has long since ceased arguing the point.) Once it's in order, he gestures for Bull to sit and grabs a cloth to wipe his face with.

Bull closes his eye as Dorian gently clears his face of tears and mucus and everything else unpleasant that comes with the aftermath of crying. He's still trying to hide it, Dorian sees, lips pursed while the rest of his face remains a blank, emotionless slate. He still wants to pretend that Dorian hasn't caught him while he's vulnerable, that he's still in control and his lies haven't fallen apart.

Dorian doesn't mention it yet, instead kissing Bull's forehead lightly before turning away to deposit the cloth elsewhere. "Can you get under the covers for me, Bull?"

"Oh, is _that_ what we're up to," he jokes, but there's no humor in the words. Still, Dorian hears him shuffle into bed as he tidies up a little. Bull's clearly knocked over a few things in his fit of emotion, but Dorian won't draw attention to it.

He finally returns to the bed when it's done, crawling under the sheets and curling beside Bull, resting his head on the other man's arm. The Bull reaches over to take his hand, and Dorian can feel it in his hold more than anything else - the way he hold Dorian, as though he's made of glass, those big hands gentle and delicate and _safe_ for all of his boasting about being a mindless killing machine.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Dorian asks, taking the Bull's hand and pulling it up to his lips. Bull is silent for a long moment, the quiet wondrous as the mask falls from his face and he finally frowns.

"I don't know how to," Bull says softly, and his voice is a shattered replica of that normal bold tone that he has. "I want to. But I don't know how. Usually I just punch the feelings out of myself."

"I take it that didn't work this time?" Dorian's tone is not accusatory, not at all, and the Bull seems to draw comfort in that.

"No." It is quiet again, silent save for the muted chatter of Skyhold outside, and there is a part of Dorian's mind that wonders if any of it is about him and Bull. He pushes it down for now, knowing that this is not the time. He needs to focus on Bull. "I don't want to keep holding it in, but I don't know how to let it out."

"Perhaps if we start small?" Bull looks down at him tiredly, and Dorian shifts a bit closer. "I know you're good at writing, with all of your reports and whatnot." Reports that Bull no longer sends, but now isn't the time to mention his being Tal Vashoth. "Maybe you can write it down - at least, one part of it. One thing that bothers you, whenever you're able, and you can share what you've written down with me until you've gotten it all out."

The Iron Bull ponders that, his eye going to the ceiling. "…I could try," he says, his voice still a whisper. "Do you have paper?"

"Yes, ah, give me a moment…" Dorian shuffles out of the bed, moves to his desk. It's a mess, but an _organized_ mess, and though he knows how much Bull prefers things neat and tidy this setup is the only way he can find anything. He eventually fishes out a piece of paper and something to write with and returns to the bed, sitting up and holding them out to Bull. "Here. Sit up. Let's try writing down what bothered you just now."

Bull obeys, his touch so soft as he pulls the objects out of Dorian's hands, folding his good leg beneath himself and writing as best he can on the uneven surface. Dorian looks away respectfully, still leaning on him a bit as he works.

Minutes later, Bull clears his throat and slides the paper into Dorian's lap facedown. "I think that covers it," he says, and Dorian can hear his voice wavering again. He can tell, just from this, the Bull is crying again. He reaches into his lap and turns the paper over...

He reads the words once, twice, three times, letting them sink in. Then he folds the paper in half and sets it aside, turning to hug the Bull as best he can from their angle. Bull is shaking, his tears still silent as he brings one arm around Dorian.

"I'm sorry," Dorian breathes. "You're right. That is a very difficult thing to deal with…but I'm here. I'm right here with you, Iron Bull. You can trust me. You're going to be alright."

This, it seems, is all the Iron Bull needed to hear. He hiccups and pulls Dorian into his lap, holding the mage tightly against him as his sobs finally become vocal and he wails against Dorian's shoulder. The mask is gone, and Dorian holds Bull safely in his arms and clamps him tight, making good on his words as the Bull cries against him. He rubs his back slowly, feeling the way Bull's sobs quiet to sniffles, and then finally to nothing again as he trembles slightly in Dorian's hold.

He goes still at last but doesn't move, and Dorian kisses the top of his head. "It's alright, amatus," he says quietly. "I'm right here. You're alright…"

"I'm…tired." Bull is no longer whispering, but his voice is hoarse in the way that only crying can make it, his hold on Dorian loosened slightly as he lays back on the bed and brings Dorian down with him.

"Sleep," Dorian whispers. "It's always good to do that after you let it all out."

They uncurl their legs and tangle up together beneath the sheets, and Dorian maneuvers himself down to kiss both of Bull's cheeks and wipe at his face again with an unused corner of the blanket. Bull stares at him reverently, tired gaze full of emotion that he won't speak, and Dorian won't ask him to if he can't. Writing, sometime, but not now.

"Thank you," Bull says, and his tone is a blessed shift from what it was before - no longer painful and shattered, but warm, if not exhausted. It is soft and kind and all Bull, and Dorian kisses his lips softly, pressing their foreheads together.

"I am always here if you need me," Dorian says, wanting Bull to remember even as he's drifting off. "I love you, amatus."

"Yeah…love you too, kadan." Bull pulls him down to a more comfortable position on his chest before falling still with sleep and, once he's rested his head on Bull's shoulder, Dorian follows him into blissful, dreamless rest.

**Author's Note:**

> There is, in fact, something on that paper, but I liked the way the piece felt better without it being stated. I hope you like it too! Also, please let me know if I didn't tag anything that I should have - I'm new to Ao3 and still terrible at this, and I appreciate all the help I can get. Thank you!


End file.
